


Hunted

by smuttyshitposting



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bloodplay, Dubious Consent, Eyepocalypse, F/F, Monsterfucking, Possessive Behavior, Predator/Prey, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24438637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smuttyshitposting/pseuds/smuttyshitposting
Summary: Or: Daisy misunderstands the concept of ‘predatory lesbian.’In the new world, Basira tries to hunt down Daisy, only it turns out that maybe she’s not the hunter there.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> Look, the sheer willpower it took to not make this an A/B/O fic so, to accompany Sasha and not!Sasha, we’d have Daisy and knot!Daisy, was so much you don’t even know. Puns rule my life.  
> Anyway. Porn. Monsterfucking. The usual.

Basira didn’t know what she was feeling.

Terror would be the easy answer, but terror was _everything_ now, and it was more than that. It seized her, clutched at her heart, made her pulse race, but it wasn’t like any fear she’d known. It didn’t turn her senses into a jumbled haze of flight or fight, it didn’t confuse her; if anything there was a new clarity to how she saw the world.

She saw, more clearly than ever, Daisy, as her former friend stalked closer.

And Daisy looked wrong. Like her skin didn’t quite fit, like her body wasn’t what it was meant to be, something insider her shifting and changing but not obviously changing her outside at all. Humanity just didn’t fit her any more.

“Basira,” Daisy said.

Her voice was low, and she rolled the r as if she could taste the letter, prolonging each syllable unnecessarily.

It wasn’t Daisy she was scared of. That would be wrong; she knew Daisy, had done for too long. She was scared of what Daisy had asked her to do.

Daisy took a step. A twig crunched under her foot; Basira couldn’t imagine there being woods there, but everything seemed to have gone to hell so honestly that was the least of her concerns.

And Daisy smiled, and the grin went too far across her face and revealed far too many teeth. Something gleamed in her eyes.

Still Daisy, no matter how much she’d changed, everything about her was familiar, just… shifted. It was like looking at Daisy at the wrong angle; the smile was the same, the possessive glint to her expression, it just wasn’t _right_ somehow.

Basira swallowed. Daisy hadn’t wanted this. That was what she had to remember; whatever she felt, she’d promised Daisy that.

Basira lifted the gun. Daisy cocked her head.

And then the gun was out of her hand and Daisy had closed the distance between them in less time than it took Basira to blink; Basira stumbled back, hitting a tree, and Daisy was close enough to touch her, one hand on the wrist that had held a gun, the other reaching around her throat.

She felt a scratch, something sharper than nails drawing blood at the back of her neck. Basira’s eyes widened; Daisy inhaled deeply, smile not fading.

“Shh, shh,” Daisy said. She looked down to the discarded gun. “You don’t need a weapon. Weapons are for people that mean to kill, and a good hunter shouldn’t need one. You’re not a hunter though, are you?”

Daisy leaned in, sniffing. Basira swallowed, legs shaking, heart suddenly pounding.

“No,” Daisy whispered. “No, you’re not a hunter. You’re prey. Prey doesn’t need to worry about being armed. You just have to hope you don’t get caught. But, oh, you’re caught now.”

“Daisy,” Basira said. She took another breath, sheer force of will making her steady her tone. “You wanted me to do this.”

“Did I?” Daisy said.

She pulled back and tilted her head, for a brief second not looking like Daisy at all. She blinked and regarded Basira with wide, inhuman eyes.

“I can’t think why,” Daisy said. “Why would I want you to kill me? No, I think you misunderstood. I think I wanted you to come after me,” Daisy grinned again, showing off too many teeth. “So that I could come after you.”

And Daisy leant in again, opening her mouth, and Basira couldn’t help the cry from escaping her lips.

Was this really how it ended? A hand pressing too hard against her windpipe, pinning her to a tree and making each breath just that little bit too hard, her gun discarded on the forest floor, another hand sliding down the side of her body with effortless ease, and sharp teeth brushing against the base of her neck, her flesh yielding all too easily to them.

Basira’s head rolled back and she stared up to the sky. It stared back, unblinking.

She really missed the days where she could just assume the sky wouldn’t blink.

And then Daisy moaned and lifted her head again, rivulets of red trickling down over her lip.

Not dead. Okay. Not dead. The fear didn’t go away, but it wasn’t fear of Daisy; then again, this wasn’t Daisy. Not really. She felt her heart quicken.

“ _Delicious_ ,” Daisy whispered.

“Daisy,” Basira managed to say.

She wasn’t sure where she was going with that. Too little made sense in this new world.

Then Daisy’s hand was ghosting down her side again, fingertips sharp like talons, leaving thin, stinging lines in her skin and almost by accident slicing through her top.

Daisy was looking at her again, staring into her eyes in what was almost a familiar expression.

It wasn’t like this was an entirely new experience for them, Daisy achingly close, pinned to a flat surface, Daisy drinking her in with all of her sense… But this was some kind of twisted parody of that, the hunger in Daisy’s eyes something unnervingly primal.

And still enough to make Basira squirm, all the more when, as if hypnotised, Daisy’s free hand started to move inwards. She kept her other hand on Basira’s throat, insistent pressure enough to keep her still.

“Caught you,” Daisy said.

Animalistic was entirely the wrong word for what Daisy was. No animal looked like that, acted like that; she might have descended into savagery, but it was an entirely unique form of it.

The teeth that shouldn’t have been there, yes, those put Basira in mind of an animal. The eyes that gleamed in the darkness, the fingertips that seemed to be sharp whenever Daisy wanted them to be, those too.

But the way she looked at Basira, it was more as though Basira was the animal, the prey, tilting her head just to see what Basira would do next.

It wasn’t her friend any more. But something deep in her expression, hidden beneath layers of blood and rage and chase, _that_ might have been Daisy.

Daisy ground her palm against Basira’s core, through her trousers, just seconds of pressure that made Basira gasp. Daisy’s smile spread.

And then she stepped back. She was hunched strangely, arms not quite against her sides, legs parted, as though there was too much of her to stand normally.

“Run,” Daisy said, panting as if straining.

Basira stumbled forwards, unsure.

Was part of Daisy still in there? Was that what this was? It would be-

“Run,” Daisy said, and she didn’t seem to be struggling any more. She spoke almost playfully. “Run, and I’ll catch you.”

Basira didn’t know where the light was coming from, a shimmer of not-moonlight illuminating Daisy, something under her skin shifting and squirming and threatening to burst out, short fingernails bright like razor-blades, red still seeping between densely packed teeth.

Basira ran.

She turned, stumbling through the woods and over the fallen branches, not sure what she was trying to do. She’d seen how fast Daisy had moved to disarm her, getting away seemed an impossibility, but…

More time meant more hope. She had to cling to that.

Daisy had wanted her to be the one to kill her. Basira hadn’t exactly relished the possibility of going through with that, but she’d tried to keep her word. She’d failed.

The Hunt had her- her what? Friend? Girlfriend? Daisy had never been the best with labels, but it hurt. And all she could do was run and pray she’d think of something.

Shadows moved in the woods ahead of her. Basira froze, stilling suddenly; there was more than just Daisy out in the world now. And there was no way Daisy could have gotten ahead of her already, she wasn’t that fast, was she?

Or maybe she was. She was a hunter. What kind of hunter couldn’t catch up to their prey?

“Caught you.”

And before she could spend more than a second more on that thought, a breathless whisper sounded behind her, and Basira was shoved forwards, again into a tree. She grunted, and was spun around, coming face to face again with what Daisy had become.

And this Daisy, panting from the hunt, an unnatural grin on her face, didn’t hesitate to lean in; she didn’t need to pin Basira with her hands any more, her body exerting enough force. Her hands were free for other things.

One hand palmed roughly at Basira’s chest, too impatient to undress her and preferring instead to leave tears in her clothes, pawing at her more from possessiveness than for pleasure. Her other hand slid lower, leaving thin cuts in her thighs in its hurry to bare her core. Shreds of fabric fell away.

“Daisy,” Basira tried to say.

The hand moved from her chest to her mouth, Daisy almost feverish. She didn’t look away, a mix of detachment and attention in her eyes; she was clinging on to every twitch, every whimper Basira made, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Shh,” Daisy said. “I caught you. You’re mine.”

And the hand that had slice through her trousers reached for her again, smearing red up her thighs as it ascended to her core. Basira braced herself for the first touch-

Two fingers, then three on the second thrust, slid roughly inside her. Thankfully the claws or whatever it was Daisy now had were retracted, slim digits sufficing on their own.

Basira arched in voluntarily and found herself staring up at the sky as Daisy’s fingers impatiently filled her. Of all things, Basira felt heat rushing to her cheeks, as if self-consciousness was anything to be worried about just then.

Spite made her glower back, eyes staring into the Eye as if daring it to judge her.

It was so familiar, having Daisy against her, she almost hated the Hunt more for that. It was like it was taunting her, reminding her of what it had taken.

But it was still Daisy, she reflected, as the rough bark of the tree dug into her back. Still, Daisy who slid her fingers into her, who could always effortlessly find that slightly rough spot that dragged a cry from Basira’s lips.

And Daisy who again pressed her lips to Basira’s throat, lapping at the wound she’d already left there, lapping at the tender skin; Basira found herself acutely aware of that even as she should have been overwhelmed by other sensations.

“Come on then, prey,” Daisy whispered. “Give me what I _want_.”

Basira came.

It was shockingly easy. Her heart pounded with a terror that was as natural as breathing, countless tiny little cuts and scrapes on her body prickled, the Eye in the sky stared down at her, Daisy pinned her down and panted against her, and those three fingers nevertheless plucked a screaming, trembling orgasm from her body.

Basira slumped, barely managing to catch her breath before Daisy stepped back. She looked up questioning; Daisy smirked back at her.

“Run,” Daisy said.

She smiled with too many teeth. Basira’s eyes widened.

“Why?” Basira managed.

“ _Run_ ,” Daisy said again, more insistently.

“Give me a-”

“Run.”

Daisy growled the last. Her mouth opened, a glimpse of too many teeth, and Basira made herself straighten. Aftershocks were still running through her as she started moving again.

After a few seconds she heard a voice that wasn’t quite Daisy’s echo through the woods.

“Ready or not…”

Basira struggled to catch her breath as she kept moving.

She wove her way around the trees, stumbling over the stray branches. Her torn and shredded trousers kept slipping down, threatening to trip her; she discarded them in desperation. She had to run. She had to keep running.

It was like slipping into a pattern. One moment she didn’t understand the game Daisy was playing, the next she _knew_ , and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to obey. To run so that Daisy could give chase.

No, natural was the wrong word. It seemed like the only thing in the world. Shame didn’t matter much compared to that; she did whatever it took to keep running.

She made it out from the woods and into a more familiar city, out from a jungle into an urban jungle. She didn’t think about how strange that was.

But she made it only a few steps on the tarmac before a familiar voice was in her ear again.

“Found you,” Daisy whispered.

Basira’s eyes widened-

And that time she was pushed forwards, bent over the hood of a nearby car, one hand in the small of her back sufficient to keep her pinned. She squirmed for a moment, then went limp.

Prey.

She felt the cold metal of the car against her breasts, unable to look back, but she could see a faint reflection in the car’s windscreen. She saw Daisy, that same feral smirk, and saw her kneel. She felt a hand grab at her ass, and then felt that same hand move to part her legs.

It was harder to keep her balance with her legs spread, but the car supported her. It also let Daisy move her head between trembling thighs; Basira felt the brush of her hair against sensitive skin, felt a nip on her inner thigh, and then felt a tongue drag across her core.

A trickle of blood ran down her leg. She ignored it.

“Daisy,” Basira gasped. “Why are you…”

“Prey,” Daisy said. The words sent a thrum through Basira, breath tickling her centre. “I caught you. You’re mine, to do whatever I want with.”

Basira swallowed. Daisy’s lips returned to their task, Basira already feeling unsteady, sensitive from their last encounter; it didn’t seem to matter to Daisy.

The world narrowed. There might as well have been nothing save the car under her, her body, and Daisy. Her friend, her girlfriend- her hunter, taking her pleasure the way she wanted.

She wriggled, already feeling something building in her. Daisy coaxed insistently, tongue moving in practised, rough patterns; her hand still held onto Basira’s ass, gripping her, five pinpricks of pain that somehow added to the pleasure.

If Basira had wanted to acknowledge more of the world – which she really tried not to – there was so much more to see. They weren’t alone. There were two kinds of people around them.

One kind didn’t spare them a glance. They were ragged, bleeding, staggering, prey-animals that had once been people sprinting with wide and terrified eyes. They tried to find places to hide in the mess of environments all around them, or tried to keep running.

But then there were the others, wolves in human skin. Their eyes glinted in the dim light, and they didn’t bleed; some ran, and some walked purposefully, sniffing the air.

Sometimes they spared a glance for Basira. Part of her knew she’d once have felt self-conscious about that, wearing nothing but shoes and a top so torn it might as well have not been there, with a tongue insistently diving between her legs. There was barely any room for such a feeling in her now.

Most kept moving after the first, curious glance.

The occasional hunter did pause, though, tilting their head in a distinctly inhuman fashion to peer at the display. They might even take a step closer.

And then Daisy would move back, Basira’s taste dripping down her lips, and turn and growl at them.

“ _Mine_ ,” Daisy would say. And when the hunter backed off, she’d go right back to devouring her prey.

Basira came again, screaming in a mix of emotions she didn’t want to untangle, and Daisy kept her pinned to the car until she’d ridden through it all.

Basira was still panting, trying to catch her breath, when Daisy told her to run.

That time she didn’t hesitate. She saw the people that passed around them, saw the other prey; she saw what kind of shape they were in and swallowed.

Reluctantly, Basira had to admit to herself that she might have been one of the lucky ones.

So Basira ran. When her shirt got caught on a doorway, a ragged tear flailing loosely behind her, she had to shrug it off, leaving her naked (like an animal, as some part of the back of her mind insisted). And she kept running.

When Daisy caught up with her, she always seemed to have new ideas of what to do. Sometimes it was as simple as position, sometimes she wanted to see how many fingers she could fit inside Basira; other times her tongue probed at another hole with a hissed _all of you is mine_.

Sometimes, when Basira was so overstimulated she wasn’t sure she could come again, Daisy would pin her down to the floor and straddle her face for a change, riding her lips and she was satisfied. But only sometimes. Other times Daisy would take pride in bringing her to the brink anyway.

Vaguely, Basira was aware that seemed to be the only thing she was eating. It seemed to give her the energy she needed.

Basira ran.

And Daisy caught her. Again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again... 


End file.
